Fata Cruentum
by tomhiddlest0ner
Summary: Ellie Markham thought Beacon Hills would be a new beginning, a new chance at life for she and her parents after a tragic accident in Florida. But new friends Scott and Stiles aren't exactly what she expected, and now, she's being pulled deeper and deeper into the abyss that is the mystery of those in Beacon Hills. Will she survive the chaos of the Darach? Stiles/OFC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, all! Another Teen Wolf fic, this time a Stiles/OC (as though there aren't a billion good ones already). This one, like the Angels and Werewolves (hiatus) series, will be written in third person and it begins with season 3. First chapter is always a bit of an awkward one, but please review so I know you guys are interested in seeing more of Ellie's background. Also, any ideas for a FC would be greatly appreciated! - Tayla xx**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE: WAKE UP AND SMELL THE CURLY FRIES!<strong>

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><p>The afternoon hung over Beacon Hills like a warm blanket, the sunshine loved throughout the entire three-thousand residents of the small town as they each went about their daily business, most having lives that weren't really noteworthy or particularly interesting - except for Scott McCall, who was beaming as he and his best friend stepped over the threshold of a small tattoo parlor perched in the less desirable part of town. Stiles Stilinski's expression was far less than pleased - his complexion was pale, a displeased scowl on his features. <em>No, <em>he had _not _just feinted at Scott getting his first tattoo. In his scrawny hands he held a small pack of ice, pressing it to the back of his head where he'd smacked it hard on the concrete flooring of the tattoo store. He glanced over at Scott, wrinkling his nose as he jerked open the door to the rust-bucket that was his Jeep. Scott grinned over at him, slipping into the passenger seat.

"You feeling okay?" Stiles asked, taking a moment for his eyes to flicker away as he shoved the key into the ignition. Scott frowned, glancing at the largely bandaged place of the tattoo, appearing concerned.

"It kind of burns."

"-Yes. You just had your skin stabbed about a hundred thousand times with a needle," the boy snorted in response, cocking a brow. There was a moment of silence between them as Stiles ditched the ice-pack in his backseat, the engine buzzing gently though before long, the sound was interrupted by Scott's howl of pain as he clutched his bicep, frowning.

"No, it's definitely not supposed to feel like this!" he cried out, muttering about taking the bandage off though Stiles was adamant he keep it on. Truthfully - the teenage boy was still slightly sickened by the needles. He glanced away for a split second, returning his eyes to half a tattoo and Scott's reddened, blotchy skin. "Wha- Oh, no, come on!" As the tattoo slowly disappeared, almost sinking into Scott's flesh, Stiles watched idly with an uncomfortable expression on his features. Scott deflated as the remainder of the tattoo shrunk away, and he sighed. "It healed."

As though trying to stop himself, Stiles screwed his face up before gnawing on his cheek. "-Thank God. I hated it. Sorry," he added, making himself comfortable in his seat before placing the car in drive, Scott scowling at him though his friend's disdain didn't last very long at all. "Wanna go get some dinner? This whole, uh, passing out thing really made me peckish." He sent his best friend a lopsided grin, Scott rolling his eyes and nodding.

"There's this new burger place that's opened. Let's go there," he supplied, furrowing his brow as he examined his arm. He didn't quite understand - he was _sure _he'd seen tattoos on Derek before (the guy wasn't exactly shy, he'd had his shirt off a _lot_ during training sessions) so how could they have stayed and not healed? Another sigh left the young wolf's lips, and Stiles glanced over, concerned.

"Hey, c'mon," Stiles offered, shaking his head as he maneuvered the Jeep out of the parking lot. "Derek's got 'em, we'll figure it out. You'll get your... bands. We'll go see him right after dinner or something, okay? Okay." He hoped he was making at least some difference to his friend's mood - sure, it was just a tattoo and Scott would likely find some other way to permanently ink the _monstrosity _into his flesh, but Stiles wasn't an ass - he knew his friend was down, the tattoo meant a lot to him. To watch it just fade away... well, Scott wasn't doing too great at the moment, anyway, and it kind of sucked that he couldn't have just _one _thing that was important to him. Stiles sighed, Scott nodded, and the two of them took off down the road.

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><p>The new take-out place was privately owned, sitting on its very own lot rather than in a mall and just a few streets away from the high school, which would surely make it a popular new hangout among the students (especially those partaking in 'recreational' smoking just outside of the gym every afternoon). For now, though, it wasn't overly busy, and only a few cars sat waiting in the lot. Stiles furrowed his brow curiously, eyeing up the quaint building before glancing at Scott with a nod. It had the <em>looks <em>for the Stiles Stilinski Sticker of Approval, with wide windows opening three sides of four to the gorgeous woods preserve surrounding this part of the town. The doors were bright red and inviting, and the new owners even had the retro neon-flashing _OPEN _sign. Inside was even greater - everything looked as though it was straight out of a movie, and Stiles (and even Scott) were grinning as they stepped over the threshold into the building. A few of the cars were even shaped like Cadillac cars.

"_This _is pretty cool," Stiles mused, nodding to himself as he adjusted himself, looking for a booth for the two to take. Scott followed after him, eyes scanning the many retro decorations on the walls - vintage posters and signs, number plates, Elvis's magazine covers... it looked pretty great, even he'd admit it. He nodded, sending a grin to Stiles and sliding into one of the few car-shaped booths - theirs was a pastel blue Cadillac with working backlights and shiny metal. He chuckled.

"It must've taken years to get all this stuff, put this together," Scott murmured, glancing at Stiles.

"Yeah - it did."

For a second, Scott was confused. Stiles voice was suddenly _not _Stiles's voice. In fact, his mouth hadn't moved at all except to fall almost right open as he stared at someone behind the young wolf, who frowned and spun around to follow his friend's gaze. The beta's eyes landed on a girl - short, petite and wearing quite the smile on her features. Scott cocked a brow, and the girl looked from Stiles to the werewolf and rose an eyebrow straight back at him as though she expected something. He gathered his thoughts, looking at her shirt only to realize she _worked _at the diner. Stiles coughed and allowed his honey eyes to take the girl's appearance in - she was tiny, thinner than Danny Mahealani's fourteen year old sister with knobbly knees that stuck out from beneath the frayed hem of a black high-wasted skirt. God, Stiles almost winced at how much she looked like a classic diner waitress - it hurt, though she _did _rock it better than any typical 40 year old with her hair in curlers and a dirty apron.

No, instead, this girl was clean. Her pink shirt (complete with white stitching and a white collar...) was ironed neatly, bouncy ringlets of thick brunette curls hanging around her face as they fell from her ponytail. What caught Stiles off most, though, were her eyes - sparking green, like a freaking... _emerald. _He couldn't believe he'd just thought such a thing. Honestly, this girl looked even more cheerful than Scott - like she'd swallowed her own personal sun and just emitted rays of warmth everywhere. It was weird, kind of. Stiles blinked, looked at the girl again, then gave an awkward smile, looking at her name tag. _ELLIE. _

"Excuse my friend here. He has the mental capacity of a guinea pig," he said, catching Scott's attention. The wolf frowned.

"_Hey_!"

To Stiles's surprise, the petite brunette snorted. "How many guinea pigs do you know that can say '_hey_'?"

"- A lot, actually. More than you'll ever know."

"I don't talk to guinea pigs, I'm not a child. I have_ my _conversations with wolves, they're much more insightful." Stiles blinked, catching _wolves _and looking up with panicked eyes. The girl frowned at him, tilting her head curiously. "Not really. God - way to make a first impression in a new town, Ellie," she scolded herself, sighing deeply. Ignoring Scott's intense stare and Stiles's curious glance, her manicured hands reached into her front pocket from where she pulled a notepad and a pen. "What'll it be?"

"You're new here?" Scott asked, straight out ignoring her question. She tentatively gave a nod, and for the first time, he smiled slightly. "Cool. I'm Scott, this is Stiles - we're juniors at Beacon Hills high. You're gonna go to school, right?"

For a moment, the brunette looked wary. A ploy to embarrass her further, or the two first genuinely nice people she'd come across? She went for the latter, relaxing just slightly. "I'm Ellie - short for, uh, Eleanor, but people only call my cat Eleanor." Stiles frowned.

"You named your cat after yourself?"

"It's not _my _cat, we took it in."

"And kept it's name as Eleanor?"

"Have you _tried _changing a pet's name before?"

"No, have _you_?"

"-Stiles! Shut up!" Scott interrupted, looking very much like a mother scolding two children before he smiled sheepishly over at Ellie. "If you're gonna be at school, you should come find us at lunch or something. It'll beat sitting by yourself. - Unless you already know someone!" The girl smiled again - it was nice to know that there would be someone there for her when she started school, she'd never transferred before and was _awfully _nervous about it. But then again, being in Scott and Stiles's year didn't mean they'd have any classes together, but she could hope for something at least. Grinning, Ellie nodded her head before looking to Stiles, then back at Scott.

"I'd really like that, if you're sure. I've never started at a new school before."

"Where'd you move from?" Stiles asked, shuffling along the booth so as to make way for their new company. The girl shifted awkwardly, but soon slid in beside Stiles and smiled gently.

"Florida. My dad and I had the diner over there, too. It's weird, living your whole life in one place and then just... uprooting and leaving it all behind." Ellie winced - she'd loved living in Florida... the sunshine, the people, the warmth, working in the diner... it had been her home, but she knew she could never blame her parents for leaving. Their situation had been less than desirable, moving was all they could have done to continue living their normal lives. Besides, Eleanor wasn't the type to hold grudges or live in the past - she'd been given this opportunity to start fresh, and she was damn well going to use it. She also felt quite... at _home _in Beacon Hills, despite her family barely having enough time to register Ellie in school - the diner came first. It was one of their only sources of income, after all.

"Your parents own this diner?" Scott asked, and Ellie smiled and gave a nod. She was proud of the diner, even if it was one of the dorkiest things in their day and age. "That's cool!"

"Do you sell curly fries?" Stiles interrupted, the brunette frowning deeply as though offended.

"What kind of establishment to you think we run?" she asked. "Of _course _we sell curly fries."

Stiles could only respond with a grin.

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><p>It was almost nightfall by the time the two teens were leaving the tiny diner, the neon <em>OPEN <em>sign now casting bright lights across the pavement of the parking lot as it flickered, inviting patrons in for the dinner rush of fatty, cheese dripping hamburgers and salt-and-vinegar drenched chips. Scott had been quieter towards the end, looking over at Ellie with suspicious (and even creepy) glances, and Stiles might have even had to _drag _him to the bathroom to get an explanation - which hadn't been given to him. Scott had just hissed for him to shut up and said he'd 'explain later', whenever later was. Now, Stiles was gripping the steering wheel of his Jeep with whitened knuckles, gritting his teeth as he waited for Scott to say _anything. _It took the young wolf a good ten minutes before he even opened his mouth.  
><span>

"What's wrong, dude?" Stiles asked, glancing from the road back to the male beside him. "Why were you acting so freakin' weird? I think you scared Ellie - actually, I don't think there's _much _that can scare her. But I think you creeped her out a little."

"_Dude, she_ creeped _me _out!"

Stiles frowned, confused. "What? Why? Was it the dimples? Or was it when she was talking about how her dad got that blood-stained ukulele? _That_ was a weird story."_  
><em>

"No, Stiles, it wasn't the ukulele story - I smelt something." At those words, the hyperactive driver immediately froze to stare at Scott. Of _course - _someone new comes to town and can't just be a regular human with a regular human agenda. Nope, everyone that they came across had to smell funny and had to be either harboring dead bodies or just... creating dead bodies. Stiles sighed, wrinkled his nose up and pulled over.

"What do you mean 'you smelt something'? Was it an incriminating something, like dead bodies or human flesh? There wasn't human in those burgers, were there? Oh _God, _what if we ate human burgers! Scott, is she a murderer?"

"What-? Stiles, no! They _weren't _human burgers. It was just... _her. _She didn't smell right, but she isn't a wolf." After a moment of silence, Scott just sighed. It was likely to be nothing - if she wasn't a wolf, then what could she have been? Eleanor didn't look too deceiving, and although Scott knew that looks weren't everything (from personal experience, he might add), he didn't want to freak out over the girl. "Maybe I'm just off. Maybe it's nothing."

"When has _anything _in this town been _nothing_?" Stiles asked, pursing his lips. Scott, despite himself, smiled.

"I don't know, man. All I know is... that smell... she wasn't human."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, guys! Deciding to continue this story over the hiatus. Please read and review and let me know what you think! x**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO: MAKING FRIENDS<strong>

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><p><em>You're gonna be fine, Ellie.<em>

Ellie Markham stood in front of her mirror with a wary expression on her features. Why was everything she owned so... _plain? _Just yesterday she'd been standing in the halls of Beacon Hills high trying to figure out how to find the office - it was painstakingly obvious that she'd walked straight by it, but the frazzled girl hadn't even noticed. Of course, the two girls to approach her and offer help looked like they were from a_ Vogue _magazine. When did high-fashion hit tiny towns like Beacon Hills? Why were people wearing _heels _to school? Eleanor was sure the only pair of heels she owned had been for her brother's funeral just a few months ago. _Those _heels sat at the back of Ellie's wardrobe, collecting dust.

Feeling a little self-conscious, Ellie looked over herself - the girls, who had introduced themselves brightly as Lydia and her 'best friend, Allison Argent', had looked rather pretty. Ellie was merely wearing a black pleated skirt and a blank tank-top. Biting on her lower lip, Ellie stood staring into her wardrobe for a moment before reaching in and pulling out a red and white Harvard varsity jacket that looked almost brand new. It had been her brothers, and she'd been so _proud _to see him off to _Harvard _that she'd cried for days when he left. Four years older than her, Will had always been her best friend, her protector. His death had shocked them all, and months on, Ellie was still mourning in the late hours of the night. It was about three sizes too big for her, her brother practically being a tank, and it hung off her tiny frame like a huge blanket, but she liked that it made her look a little less pathetic and plain.

She'd wear it anyway, no matter how much it made her look like a freshman. _  
><em>

She had, of course, been introduced to the wonders of makeup and packed a full face on that morning, so she wasn't completely _Frankenstein's monster _looking. The bags under her eyes from lack of sleep had disappeared, her eyes were wide and bright and her smile was glossy at least. She'd washed her hair that morning especially for the occasion of school, glossy brunette waves falling down her shoulders. Well, she could have been worse, she supposed. But wasn't she supposed to make an _impression _on her first day?_  
><em>

_Hell no._

The brunette wanted to blend in like a freakin' chameleon. Or, like, a spec of dust on a library encyclopedia. _No one _touched those anymore, let alone acknowledged them. She'd much rather that option. But she supposed it was out of the question - she'd accepted Lydia and Allison's (pity) invitation to lunch with the girls and the lacrosse players. Really? Tugging on a pair of frilled ankle socks and her favorite sandals. There was no way in _hell _she'd be caught wearing heels to school, but platforms? Well, they were tolerable. She only hoped it was acceptable for who she'd be sitting with, cause sitting alone was not Ellie's idea of a good time. That had happened far too often for her liking, but her brother had always come to her rescue._  
><em>

Swallowing, Ellie stared at herself a little longer. God, she'd been a bit pathetic back then. Innocent, young. That was lost when her brother died, she'd been forced to grow out of her sixteen year old stupor and face reality. She couldn't be a kid anymore - you stopped being a kid when your family was touched by death and the girls who used to laugh at you were still laughing. Sighing heavily, Eleanor ruffled her hair and grabbed her rucksack. She didn't want to look at herself any longer, let alone think of how life was before Kit died. She hadn't _needed _nasty high-school girls as 'friends' to talk about her back then, she'd had Kit. But he was gone, and she had to face the facts: being alone eventually got _lonely.__  
><em>

Flying down the stairs, Ellie found that she was anxious about her first _real _day. Her kitchen smelt like bacon and eggs, the former being a food she'd sworn off. Her vegetarian 'phase' (as her mother phrased it) had been going strong for two months now, and she was finding her cravings weren't as strong, even on mornings like the one she'd woken to. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, her father was reading the paper with his glasses balanced on his nose and her mother was humming at the stove. It was almost as though things were normal, and Ellie had to give a half-smile as she grabbed an apple. Her dad glanced up at her, eyebrows rising.

"Nervous?" he asked, and Ellie shook her head.

"Nope," she lied through a mouthful of apple, her dad scrunching his nose in distaste.

"That's disgusting, _chew like you have a secret._"

"We watched that movie _once _in freshman year. How are you _still _quoting it?" Ellie asked in disbelief. Her father had a knack for being filled with embarrassing quotes and jokes, but she was sure Mean Girls and She's The Man had to be the worst, even when pitted against the terrible dad jokes. The man smirked at her over his paper, her mother shaking her head though she was amused with the display. She wiped her hands on her apron, leaning against the counter.

"Are you taking the car?"

Eleanor shook her head. "No, thanks. I can walk." The idea of driving gave her the creeps - even in a small town, people could be terrible drivers. Especially school kids in the car park, she didn't even want to think of that. Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she headed toward the front door. "And I'm going now. I packed a salad for lunch, and I'll see you later."_  
><em>

The brunette didn't even give her parents time before she stepped out of the house, slamming the door closed behind her. She waited a moment, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, the fresh air feeling wonderful against her lungs. Living in the center of Florida wasn't terrible, but it was nothing compared to the air in a town surrounded by woods. It was a nice, free feeling that she'd never had living in the city. Ellie reveled in the endless blue sky behind her shades as she walked to the school just mere blocks from her home. She certainly didn't miss buses and trains and was thankful that she could walk _anywhere._ Perhaps this 'new start' her parents had wanted would work out in the end - eventually, it had to. Didn't it? Ellie wasn't sure she could handle another 'new start'._  
><em>

So it had to work - and damn, Ellie would make it. She'd put on a smile for her new friends today.

** xx x xx x xx**

"Class, we have a new student."

The dreaded six words. Ellie's stomach churned aggressively and she chewed on the inside of her cheek, inwardly cursing Mr. Harris for looking like a douchebag and calling her to the front of the room. Slowly, she ambled up the isle between the two-man desks and ignored the fact that everybody was sitting beside _someone, _and the other seat beside her was empty. She fiddled with the sleeves of the oversize jacket of her brother's eyes scanning over the class. She obviously didn't recognize any faces until her wide eyes landed on Allison and Lydia, who gave her a small wave. Perhaps they _weren't _pitying her. Scott and Stiles sat behind them, but otherwise, Ellie was met with blank stares.

"Ellie?" A voice pulled her from her stupor. She blinked, glancing at Mr. Harris.

"Sorry?" she asked, and a small chuckle waved over the room. She flushed red and swallowed.

"I asked if you'd tell us a bit about yourself," he said slowly, using the same tone one might with a puppy or small child. She resented him immediately for that, pressing her lips into a thin line as she gave a little glare before turning to the class. "Go ahead," Harris instructed.

Ellie sighed. "I'm Ellie. I'm from Florida. My parents own that diner that just opened near the edge of town. That's about it."

"They do really good curly fries," a voice called out, and a smile immediately crossed Ellie's features. Stiles grinned over at her while Harris fumed at the interruption, muttering something about detention though Eleanor really wasn't listening. She already knew the teacher was going to be a royal pain in her ass from the attitude at her introduction to the class. Ellie would bet anything he was one of those sickos that reveled in students' embarrassments, and the thought made her roll her eyes as she trudged back to her seat, his droning voice ringing in her ears.

Harris rabbited on about something regarding lab partners, passing around small slips of paper for students to write their names on. "This is how we're deciding lab partners this semester," he stated, and everyone groaned. "Letting you _apes _choose your own was _disastrous, _I'm not doing that again," he snapped when the students complained. Ellie hid a smirk beneath the collar of her jacket, writing her name prettily and proudly in cursive. She wasn't concerned about who she'd get partnered with - hell, this years was sure to be crappy anyways, her lab partner wouldn't do much more damage than the rest of her life. She winced at how utterly demotivating that thought sounded, then shoved it from her head, vowing to be _happy _and to make her brother proud.

Muffling a yawn, the brunette dropped her folded piece of paper into the hat Harris was walking down the isles between the tables. He narrowed his eyes at her obvious display of lack of care, Ellie staring straight ahead as though she was bored, hand resting on the palms of her hands. She watched across the room as Stiles and Scott talked among themselves, Allison and Lydia laughing and flicking their hair as they chatted, too. Harris shut them all up with a steely glance as his spindly hands reached into the hat he'd collected the names in.

On and on he went, naming people overly formally and waiting until they'd shifted around the room. Eventually, everyone had been reassigned to their new seats except for a few of them, standing among the wall. Ellie was among them, tapping her feet restlessly as she looked around. "Todd and Jessica," Harris announced, two more students leaving the shrinking group. Ellie watched Harris's expression, confused as his face seemed to fall slightly. "Eleanor and... Stiles." He seemed to regret the words that left his lips, Ellie turning with a confused expression on her features. Stiles was smiling over at her, relieved perhaps that it was the pretty girl and not Kevin, who tended to eat a lot of garlic bread. Stiles _wasn't _a fan. He ambled over to her, leaning to whisper in her ear as they headed to their desk at the back of the room.

"Consider yourself lucky," he mumbled, grinning. "They call him 'Garlic Boy'."

The brunette covered her mouth with her hand to avoid laughing. "I think I'd rather Garlic Boy over the Guinea Pig kid. How are your talking pets going, hmm?" she asked, and Stiles' crooked smile only grew as they dumped their books on the table, climbing onto their stools.

"They say _hey_," he replied with a smug tone, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest. Ellie could have fallen right off her chair laughing at the sight, but forced herself to look at the ever horrible Harris, her laughter immediately subsiding at the expression on her features. He sure was going to regret putting Stiles and Ellie together, the two of them could sense that already, shooting each other amused looks. After a hefty moment of silence, Stiles leaned toward Ellie, the two of them making sure to stare directly at Harris. "That's a cool jacket by the way."

Ellie froze, frowning. "It was my brothers," she said quietly, voice seeming to shrink. Stiles moved away, furrowing his brow.

"Soft subject?" he asked, and Ellie nodded. He looked apologetic. "Sorry. My mum died, too."

She was caught off-guard a moment. She wouldn't have guessed that Stiles had recently lost a loved one - perhaps it was an old wound, though it always remained tender forever. Eleanor wasn't sure she'd ever get over her brother's death, but she'd been told there were times when she'd be able to live her life again like she wasn't still sad. She was kind of looking forward to those days, but she wasn't sure they'd ever come. How would everything stop reminding her of Kit when Ellie couldn't even leave the house and feel the sunshine without thinking of him?

"Do you ever get over it?" she asked suddenly, and Stiles blinked. He nodded.

"Yeah. Kind of. It always sucks, though, but you have learn to live with it."

Ellie fell silent at the words. Perhaps she'd learn to live with it, but she didn't find it very likely. How could she when merely leaving the house brought back so many different memories, all flooding her mind at once? Everything held significance to Kit, everything was tied to him in some way or another. The memories haunted her, and all Ellie wanted to forget. But perhaps Stiles had a point - perhaps forgetting wasn't what she needed to do. Maybe she just needed to _learn _to live with the fact that her brother wasn't just away at college anymore and that he wouldn't be walking through the front door at home anytime soon.

Stiles shifted slightly beside the brunette, looking down at her uncomfortably. He didn't quite like the awkward air that had fallen over them at their topic of conversation, wishing that there was something else he could say to drive the pathetically sad expression from her pretty features. That had been him, once. Granted, he'd been much younger, but he'd still understood that he'd never be fully whole again, and he certainly knew how Ellie felt. Swallowing, Stiles' tongue darted out to wet his lips, mouth parting to speak in a soft tone as Harris droned on.

"Are you sitting with us at lunch today?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He, Scott and the girls had come up with something of a plan to figure out who - and what - Ellie was. Looking down at her, it was hard for Stiles to imagine her as anything but wholly good. Her features were soft and beautiful, eyes round and sparkling despite the forlorn expression that had befallen her. She looked up suddenly, a smile making its way onto her plump lips.

"If you sit with Allison and Lydia, then yeah," she replied. "They're lovely girls. I was worried they were pitying me when they invited me to sit with them."

Stiles smirked. "You should feel special, we're very exclusive at the lacrosse-slash-pretty-people-people table." The brunette beside him gave a warm laugh, muffling the sound with her hand. "The lacrosse guys are gonna love you," the boy added as an afterthought, his company raising a brow and trying not to smile at just what the statement had implied.

"Don't _you _play lacrosse?" she asked. He feigned a hurt expression.

"Are you saying I don't look like I can be part of the pretty-people side of the table? But _seriously_, yes, I'm on the team."

Eleanor gave another laugh, shaking her head. "So does that mean _you _love me, then?" He realized the trap he'd walked into, falling silent and making a zipped-lips motion, pressing his mouth into a thin line. The girl laughed. "Why's that?" she asked innocently, Stiles frowning. He knew her game, he wasn't going to embarrass himself and _say _it. "Is it my awesome hair? Or my extensive Harry Potter knowledge? Wait - I bet it's my Star-Wars t-shirt collection. Is it?" she asked. Stiles shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, what is it, Stiles? Why will they all love me?"

He ignored the fact that she might have just described his perfect girl, instead shoving her gently with his elbow. "Shut up, _Eleanor_," he groaned, recalling that the use of her full name was _only _for her cat.

"Is it my dazzling personality?" she asked him, widening her eyes all innocently and cute-like. Stiles could have gagged, a sucker for a pretty girl.

"That's exactly right," he agreed with a laugh, leaning back in his chair. "'Cause you can see that dazzling personality _miles _away. Guys just love that on a girl."

Rolling her eyes, Ellie chuckled and turned her eyes back to Harris, who was peering at them aggressively as though willing them to shut up. She beamed at him and he scoffed, turning back to the chalk board. "Anyway," she said, leaning her chin on her hands, "can I sit by you at lunch? Allison and Lydia have that best-friend vibe that I'm not sure I can handle - not that I'm not some totally cool lone wolf," she added, flicking her hair over her shoulder jokingly. Stiles barked a laugh, earning another super steely glare from Harris. He shrunk back into his chair, leaning over to whisper to Ellie.

"You totally rock the loner look, in case you were wondering."

"And _you _rock the water-boy look. _Where _on the field do you play, did you say?" she asked, Stiles grinning lopsidedly at the fire-y joke.

"Hey, I'm very important, thanks. I made first-line this year."

Ellie grinned. "Congrats. I made my first friend this year."

Stiles returned the huge grin with his own, beaming as he laughed. "Congrats," he murmured. He _really _liked this girl - and was kind-of-sorta-maybe _praying _that she didn't end up on the wrong side of the Good and Evil spectrum. But he supposed he could only hope, since things had a _knack _for not really working out for him thus far. He supposed he could only wait and see, but the thought made him slightly anxious as he settled back into another silence, now much more comfortable beside her than he was minutes ago. Sneaking a glance, he observed her features, noticing the insane spectrum of greens in her bright eyes and the gentle freckles on the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. She almost looked kind of _peaceful._

_She can't be the one going around killing people, _Stiles mused to himself. _She can't be. _

But what other explanation did they have for two dead virgin sacrifices?


End file.
